


Mass Effect: Storm Singers

by seleenermparis



Series: Mass Effect: Storm Singers [1]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Avoiding Main ME characters as much as possible, F/M, Introduction Book, Mercenaries, Milkyway Galaxy, Original Characters - Freeform, RPG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-01-16 01:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18510808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seleenermparis/pseuds/seleenermparis
Summary: Mercenaries for hire are not always up to no good. Sometimes, you just get lucky to find a bunch willing to do what is right. Enter the Storm Singers Mercenary Company, a small mercenary group who prefer doing just that. Originally a tabletop RPG, this is to archive their adventures and share their stories. This is their introductory story. There will be laughs, some tears, and even some karaoke from a Krogan throughout the series! Updates are planned for Thursday.





	1. Kashshaptu

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:
> 
> This story contains registered trademarks and copyrights. This specific author does not have the proper authorizations by the companies or parties in question to have the usage of these. This story will never, without consent of the parties in question make money from their usage. The author acknowledges usage of these trademarks without the legal consent of the parties for monetary gain could result in legal action in regards to trademark laws. 
> 
>  
> 
> Dedication:
> 
> To: John, Geoff, Blake, Roger, Heidi, Vicki, and Erin: the real Storm Singers
> 
> May you enjoy these adventures the second and third times as you did the first.
> 
>  
> 
> The Storm Singers:
> 
> As'Irina Nar Tombay: Quarian- Technician/ Engineer  
> Iocus Tokinthes: Turian- Intelligence Officer/ Sniper  
> Jim “Hotrod” Rodriguez- Human (Puerto Rican)- Pilot  
> Korlec Giro: Krogan- Tank  
> Rayne Pxyis: Asari- Doctor

 

Chapter One

_ The Storm Singers _

 

 

“That ship wasn't set up for life support. No oxygen processors, no anything.” Irina tapped a few times on her Omni-tool, “but there was a relay of some sort. It looked like it was destroyed-a hyperwave transmitter one! That may have been transmitting orders to the mechs.”

 “I wish there was more we could have done for them. Those pirate victims didn't stand a chance.” Jim picked up his beef and bean burrito. He took a bite and several dozen pieces of rice fell onto the helm controls. When the Puerto Rican man saw they did, he picked them up and ate them. He noticed Irina's helmet was cocked in a way which questioned him silently, he replied. “What? You never waste a good burrito. These are the only ones in the 'verse which even remotely compare to my abuela's.”

 “Unfortunately there wasn't anything else we could do. They're not going to worry anymore about anything, considering they're dead.” The resident Turian towered over the pilot's helm control as he raised an eyebrow ridge at the comment about the food from the only Human on the Human based group's roster. “The Alliance will get them sorted out and take care of them. Right now, I want to talk to that archeologist Admiral Hackett wanted us to find.”

 “What's her name again? Merida Visor?” The female Quarian asked.

 “You mean Madura Vasir. She's dhad Aswari advendure archeologisd.” The pilot offered as he took another bite of his burrito. Once he swallowed, “should we let Giro know so he can get whatever poor attempts to flirt out of the way first or should we let it be a surprise?”

 “Knowing Giro, he's probably already looked her up and began to practice his attempts to serenade her.” Iocus Tokinthes finished tapping his long talons on his Omni-tool.

 “It's both rather pathetic and adorable at the same time.” Irina chuckled. “What girl wouldn't want to be serenaded to?”

 “From him? About 90% of them. The other 10%, I'd have to question their sanity.”

 “Not the romantic, I take it, Iocus?”

 “Oh, I'll bet you'll be all super soppy when you meet the girl of your dreams.” The group turned and they were greeted by the last remaining member of the Storm Singers entering the bridge.

 Korlec Giro was a Krogan of many different talents. Most of which involved being a battle siege ram. He was a very practical commodity for the private mercenary group to have around. His deep, unending love for ancient Human curiosities made him “eccentric”. Perhaps getting knocked one too many times in the head was the cause. “I can see it now. She'll show up right out of nowhere and you'll run into something as she comes into your view. That is if I haven't gotten to her first.”

 “Giro, any girl who legitimately wants you, is _not_ Iocus' type. If anything, he's not the type to eye-hump every female who comes into contact with him.” Irina chuckled. “No, I think Iocus would prefer someone with a bit more intelligence than that.”

 “I can't help it if I'm so alluring I can't shake them off!”

 “OY!” Came a chorus from the other three.

 “How soon will we get to Kashshaptu Station?” Iocus asked, trying to steer the topic back to business.

 “We're not going to the surface?” Giro cocked what traditionally been an eyebrow. That is if Krogan had eyebrows.

 “Thankfully, they've decided to build a station above the planet's middle orbit. It's suppose to be a research station. What they're going to be studying there, I do not know.”

 “I thought the station wasn't suppose to be done for another few months.” The female pondered aloud.

 “Well, I don'd dhink Hackedd would send us oud here if id wasn'd, Iri.” The pilot suggested as he took another bite of his burrito, swallowed, then continued. “Or at least wouldn't assume he would. I'm not excited about setting her down on a sparsely inhabited planet where the average surface temperature is 735.15°K. So, yea. Probably the station.”

 “That's 462°C or 835°F for those of us who prefer other units of measurement readings to freak out in.” She mumbled to herself, straightening the blue hood of her suit.

 They emerged from the sub-light field, which separated Kashshaptu from it's local mass effect relay. Jim took a standard system scan, “this was once a civilized planet?”

 “Was it?” Iocus inquired, off-handed. He straightened his casual clothing. Giro had picked up the team some antique Human clothing since he found an antique store selling many of the Human collectibles he was looking for. His karaoke machine was one which he couldn't live without.

 Bringing some clothing back, he insisted the Turian wear a pair of blue jeans and a black leather jacket. The Turian had to admit the jacket was a rather nice find, but the jeans would need some alterations. For himself, Giro purchased a burnt orange Hawaiian shirt a pair of khaki shorts also which had to be altered. Human clothing, while trendy, didn't keep aliens in mind when they made them. These classic pieces would never go out of style, Giro had insisted.

 Not wanting Irina to be left out, Giro had purchased her bangle bracelets. Which she wore. Albeit only obligation, or at least what she claimed.

 “Where is that station?” The pilot asked no one in particular as he checked the coordinates the Admiral sent against the star charts. “Well, the Admiral says it was civilized anyway. The Rachni were a space age civilization once.”

 “Looks pretty civilized to me!” Giro said wirely.

 “Crap!” Jim groaned. “The coordinates the Admiral sent are _actually_ on the planet itself.”

 “So we're going to do this old school?” Irina asked as she tapped a few controls on her station console. “Is there an obvious place to set her down, Hotrod? A settlement of some sort?”

 “Well, kind of.”

 “Kind of? Define _kind of_. As in two prefab shelters and a satellite dish?”

 “That would be an improvement. There is a large, flat area. You're going to have to hoof it about a mile.”

 “Oh, this promises to be fun. Giro, grab an environmental suit. I'll start setting up a grid search and test current atmospheric conditions unless a carrier wave for the landing site or something exists. In which case, I'll just get the program ready. You never know, this place could be inhabited.”

 “Yeah, you should do that, Io. If this place is inhabited by now, though, I'll eat the landing gear.”

 “Right then.” Iocus turned to go to get to work.

 “I'll go and get Alice ready, then.” Giro smiled and her turned to head to weapons storage.

 “For what? Varren?” Jim called after him, scoffing.

 

*** 

 


	2. Madura Vasir

The planet was the second in the Maskim Kul System in the Ninmah cluster. It's remote claim to fame was the crater located on the equator lovenly referred to as the howling gulf caused by several dozen extrasolar asteroids impacting the planet.

“How did whoever we're looking for get out here, anyway? Jim asked aloud a half an hour later. “Anyway, strap yourself in. We'll be landing shortly.”

“Probably the same way we are.” Iocus offered from behind the pilot's right shoulder as he buckled into his harness.

The landing was vaguely smooth. The turbulence alone caused some damage to the ship's outer skin, but nothing which couldn't be buffed out once they got back to their base.

“All ashore that's going ashore! Well, what's left of it anyway.” The pilot frowned as he looked at the view screen. “What the hell would you call that anyway? A hive?”

Irina considered what the Human was looking at as she released her harness with a hard smack. She shrugged, “if it looks like a hive...”

She was interrupted by Iocus, playfully. “Shuttle drones, away!”

“Fine. It's a ruined hive. I'm willing to bet our Asari friend here is in there. I'll do a planetary scan; see if we can get any resources while we're here.” The pilot began to input the commands to run the scans.

“So what would you want me to be? The welcoming party?” Giro asked as he opened the aluminum case of his shotgun. “Alice” shined from a recent cleaning and polishing of her chrome plating.

“Of course, and my cover if someone starts shooting something.” Irina snarked.

“Heh, alright. Let's get a move on then.” Giro nodded and gave his favorite gun another once over and a kiss before slinging her over his shoulder, “We'll take the main hatch and head out. See you planetside, Iocus?”

“Acknowledged. There's definitely electronic readings from the formic-like tunnels, so someone is at home. I'm not seeing anything else topside, so I don't think there is a worry for an ambush.”

The Krogan frowned, “Too bad. I was hoping for some fun.”

A few moments of communications silence occurred as Giro and Irina headed towards the main hatch. When they arrived, Iocus concluded his scan and called over the coms. “I'm not seeing anything else. I'll meet you outside the hill-like structure once I get my suit on.”

If there were any organic signs the Rachni had been on Kashshaptu; they were long since gone. The planet was barren on the surface and littering it were tall towers of baked silicate. Once they were colonies, buzzing with life. Now only the winds echoed around them. The columns were monument to a people no one remembers.

“I wonder if we'll see any of 'em.” Giro pondered.

“I suspect we're more likely to see a Krogan overindulgence with flame throwers than any actual Rachni.” Irina offered as she rounded a corner behind him.

“I thought I read some reports about how they've been seen the galaxy again.” Giro tripped over a few loose pieces of the large crumbling tower. He caught himself before he hit the ground. He dusted the mute yellow dust off of his matte forest green armor and once Iocus joined them, he went to open the tower door. He gestured with a grandiose bow, “ladies first.”

She rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”

“Hey, can't there still be a gentleman out there willing to open a door for a lady?”

“He has a point.” Iocus shrugged. He nodded towards the entrance for her to lead the way and he followed in second.

The inside wasn't any better than the outside, but it was shelter from the heat and the bright, blinding sun. The environmental controls were working overtime to keep the room cool. Shovels and pickaxes littered the room and on the communication rig in the corner held the archaeologist's standard tool kit. The Turian called over his shoulder. “Iri, why don't you head over to the console and see I there is any confirmed information about our Asari friend being here.”

“Ack!” Giro's distressed voice called to his companions. “Guys, I think I can save us some trouble.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Iocus saw his friend hold up his hands. He quickly swerved and pulled out his pistol out of reflex. He cautioned the new arrival keeping his side arm raised, but trying hard not to look too threatening. “Easy there.”

The dark blue Asari, which had her pistol on Giro's back, demanded. “Who are you and what are you looking for?”

“We're the Storm Singers Mercenary Company, ma'am. And we're looking for an Asari by the name of Madura Vasir.” The Turian paused then clarified, “for friendly business. Not the other kind.”

“What for?”

“We have an artifact we'd like her help analyzing. Shall we put our weapons down, ma'am?” Io lowered his slightly. “Particularly the one pointing at my companion's back.”

Her curiosity weighed out her options as she lowered her sidearm. “Artifact? What kind of artifact?”

Iocus nodded to Irina and Giro, then holstered his pistol. “A really large crystal. I take it you're Madura, ma'am.”

“Not very many other sentients around on this garbage rock. I was hoping with the recent reports of resurgent Rachni...” She paused for a beat. “You know what I mean. I was hoping some of them may have come back here.”

“Indeed, I do, ma'am. I'm Iocus and I am pleased to meet you. The Quarian is Irina and the Krogan, who is trying hard not to look too embarrassed for being drawn on, is Giro. Our pilot, Jim, is still with our ship. Did you have any business you need to take care of? We could lend you a bit of aid; we're in no immense hurry, and any information on the Rachni could be useful-and valuable. Beyond that,” he fiddled with his omni-tool and pulled up the image of a brilliantly clear crystal. “This is what we wanted you to take a look at. It's at our base right now when you are ready to take a look.”

“Nothing we haven't seen before.” She shook her head, then looked a bit closer at the image. “Wait, a crystal? I mean, damn it. I'm an archeologist, not a gemologist.”

“It actually has traits of being a piece of technology. Possibly a recording device, but we're not really sure. It's very old. Similar in age as Prothean.”

Her eyes lit up. “Prothean?”

“Probably not Prothean itself, but from a species that was around at the same time. Admiral Hackett recommended you to us...” The Turian purposefully trailed off, trying to hint at the discretion involved.”

“Who' s Hackett?”

“An Admiral in the Alliance Navy. Your reputation proceeds you, ma'am.”

“Apparently.” She was pensive for a moment, then made a realization. “Wait, a Human admiral sent a team of a Quarian, a Krogan, and a Turian to find an Asari about a Prothean artifact. What's the punch line?”

“It's a new reality show we're trying out!”

Irina went over and covered the Krogan's mouth, “it's a long story.”

“And a Human pilot and a private Mercenary company.” The Turian admitted. “Discretion, ma'am, and a bit of military secrecy.”

“Why is the Human military involved?”

Iocus clicked his tongue a couple of times and wagged his silver talon back and forth. “The Admiral would prefer we didn't say. However, I you're going to get involved in the research, we can probably explain most o it.”

She glanced at the Krogan and the Quarian, each in turn. Especially once Irina exclaimed when Giro licked her glove to get her hand off his face. “Hmmm...say that I am interested. What would I get?”

“Research facilities, room and board, whatever equipment you'd need. We can arrange it for you. Negotiable salary-particularly if you are able to consult on other missions our team runs, And,” Iocus paused again, for effect. “I can assure you the Alliance military would be grateful.”

“And me doing a cover of an old Human album called, “Billion Dollar Babies”!” Giro exclaimed excitedly as he raised his dark tan finger.

“Iocus and I...well, we'll try to keep you from hearing that.”

“Is that suppose to be intimidating?”

Iocus chuckled, “our facility has certain amenities. Including a Human devise called a karaoke machine. He is somewhat fond of it.”

“Alright, I am in.”

“Good. We can draw up a contract when we get back to base. If you like, after you've had a chance to look around, you can examine the artifact. Do you have any equipment which needs to be transported?”

“I got some basics, but nothing which can't be thrown in my bag.”

“I'll be more than willing to give you a private tour of our base when we get there.” Giro winked his eye and said slyly.

Irina rolled her eyes behind her blue, opaque facemask and said dryly. “I bet you would.”

“I'm sure Giro would be happy to help you load those up. I'll let Jim know that we're heading back once we get you packed.” To say the least, Iocus was pleased. This mission was in severe contrast to their most recent kerfuffle, answering default distress codes. It was going smoothly.

Once aboard the Corvette, Iocus shed his matte black armor and put it in it's storage locker. Jim's voice came over the intercom. “Everything loaded?”

When Giro finished taking off his heavy armor, and shut it in it's locker, Iocus replied. “Looks good down here.”

“I didn't come with much and I didn't find much as a computer disk.” Madura added once the group left the shuttle bay and arrived onto the bridge.

“I found a rock that looks like Iocus' head!” Giro stuck his hand out and a very vaguely “Iocus” shaped rock appeared in his hand.

“Give it to me, and I'll put it in a trick-or-treat bag later.” Jim took the rock and placed it on his control panel. “Anything else we need before we head back to base?”

“I have some shopping to do at a Sirta Branch, but I believe they take electronic orders.” The platinum silver Turian shrugged.

“They do.” Jim looked at the others. “I take that is a no.”

“I'm good.” Irina confirmed.

“I am good too. I have some reading to do or Natsumi before we get back to base anyway, but first, Alice needs a wipe down.”


	3. Cut and Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, all. My birthday is Saturday, so you get an extra chapter of the Storm Singers as my gift to you! Enjoy!

 

Two thirds of the way back to the Mass Effect relay, the sounder klaxon went off. Jim announced. “Incoming transmission.”

 “Damn it, Jim!” Giro growled.

 “But you're not a doctor!”

 “I lost my place!” He complained as he sat up when the rest of the crew entered the bridge.

 The message replayed, “your cargo or your lives.”

 “How about we show them the back end of our thrusters?” Irina offered.

 “Well, considering this ship doesn't carry ship to ship weapons,” the ship rocked to one side from the weapon fire coming from the other ship as the pilot complained. “Maybe we should think about improving on that.”

 “Fast engines usually substitute nicely.” Iocus claimed.

 “Then maybe next time we should improve _those_ instead.” Jim rolled his eyes just in time for another roll of the ship.

 “Sure, Jim. With the money we make for selling our surveys.”

 “This is why we need guns on the ship!” Giro complained.

 “Think they're after specifics or just going after random ships?” Irina asked as she took the engineering station. When the ship rocked for the third time, “okay, so there is nothing else. Just, cargo or dead?”

 “You want to hail them?” Giro exclaimed as he began unpacking Alice again; sensing they were going to need them momentarily. “Because I don't think our friends are in a talking mood.”

 “So, let's see I their ship is faster than ours, but let's try to keep the option open?” She hit the console with her arm. “Ow!”

 “Let's be honest, if it is who I think it is; we already shot up their mechs once. They're not going to be in a particularly talkative mood, Iri.” Iocus was trying to be diplomatic with his team. Now was not the time for them to be at each other's throats.

 “Look, engineer. Maybe you can go down and see if you can incant whatever voodoo you do to see if you can figure out how to calibrate our engines and squeeze more out of her.” Jim snapped.

 “If we can cut and run, we should. If not, I'll go and get my gun so Giro and I can get some target practice in.”

 “I'll see what I can do about those engines.” Irina called over her shoulder as she headed down.

 “Appreciated.” Jim's tone was less irritated with the engineer as she headed down.

 “Iocus, do you have some flash-bangs or something similar to set to explode like mines by the air lock?” Giro swung Alice over his shoulder.

 “I think we have a smoke grenade or three. If not, I'm sure I can rig something up.”

 Jim poured on the speed to give them further berth. This made the ship lurch violently forward. “The inertial dampeners must have overloaded. Hopefully Iri is fixing that. It takes skill to bank like this in a vacuum. Don't think it doesn't”

 Finally, after what felt like hours, the pilot was able to evade the hostiles long enough to pass out of their sensor range. Giro admitted as he began to pack his guns away once more. “Well, I'm a little disappointed I didn't get to turn a boarding party into lunch meat.”

 “I didn't think Krogan ate gears or drink oil. Odds were there was a greeting from a 'friendly' we managed to piss off.” Iocus shook his head and sighed in relief. “Either way, excellent work at getting away.”

 The bridge doors parted and Irina rejoined them; coming from the engine room. She wiped her gloves on her coveralls. “We got away?”

 “It appears so. Good work down there.”

 “Thank you, Jim. Nice flying.”

 “Where is our archeologist?”

 “She's downstairs in the galley. Probably making something to calm her nerves after all of that. Hopefully, she's not too scared of us.” Irina offered as she sat back down in the engineer's station.

 The other three turned their attention to Giro when the sound of kissing came from his direction. He kissed Alice again, then began talking to her affectionately. “We'll get them next time, won't we, lovely?”

 He reverently placed her into her very expensive, padded gun crate. Nothing was too good for his favorite girl.

 “You know, I haven't heard of any major pirating groups using drones. Honestly, I think it would be a waste of ships. You'd make more of a profit selling them to the Quarians.” The pilot turned to Irina, “no offense.”

 “None taken. Mostly because it's true.”

 Giro sauntered over to Irna and patted her on the shoulder. “Nice job! I was just telling Iocus we keep you around or good reason.”

 “...well, thanks, Giro.” with sarcasm in her tone.

 

***

 


	4. Home Sweet Base

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday to me! Here is your extra chapter!

The engines cut on the Corvette and it gently landed with ease. After locking down the clamps to secure the ship, the crew began to disembark into the three level base. The artificial lights flickered on so they could see where they were going in the hanger.

 “Finally! Home sweet base!” Giro exclaimed as the group stepped out of the loading dock, carrying Alice with him.

 The small base was a stark, refurbished Cerberus fighter base. The Storm Singer's original base, located on one of the less desirable wards on the Citadel, had a bomb explosion trigger the fires which burned it down to nothing. Thanks to Admiral Hackett, their contact in the Alliance Navy, they were able to secure and move to this new location. It was nestled into a grassy mountain side and the only evidence of the base even existing was the extra large metallic doors guarding the entrance.

 “I don't know about you guys, but I'm looking forward to a long, hot bath.” Irina rubbed her shoulder.

 “How is that arm doing?” Giro asked, not even realizing she was nursing it. “I saw you hurt it.”

 “It's fine.”

 “It's times like this when I wish we had a medic, a nurse, a doctor, or something.” Iocus confessed. “Iri, if the pain gets to be too much, let Jim and I know. We can take you to a clinic.”

 “Thanks, Io.” The Quarian would have given him a hug if her shoulder wasn't throbbing. She turned, entered the lift, and reached for the Lower Level 1 button.

 When the doors closed, Iocus frowned. Injuries for Quarian could be life threatening because of their immune systems. He made a mental note to contact Hackett to discuss hiring someone in the medical field.

 Turning the corner to follow the Quarian to the lift, the doors to the briefing room opened and Admiral Stephen Hackett greeting them, a pleasant surprise. “You're back. Good. I see you were able to convince our archeologist to come. Madura, if you could come with me, we can discuss and sign your contract. I will come find the rest of you in about an hour. I have another mission for you.”

 “See you then.” The Turian Intelligence officer nodded. It was a rare moment indeed when the admiral personally came to call. Before the Krogan tank got to far, he called after him. “Giro, I can I borrow your expertise for a momentarily?”

 “On what?”

 “Your specialty: brute force.”

 “I prefer the term focused brute force, but what's up?”

 “I'm getting tired of the range disparity between my pistol and my sniper rifle. Looking for something mid-ranged, litterally, but most of my training was with heavier battle rifles. We never really covered the smaller stuff like the SMG.” Iocus pulled up a Sirta Foundation catalog on his omni-tool and began poking through it. “Yup, perfect for focusing it. Got any recommendations?”

 “Hmm, well, my experience is mostly with shotguns and assault rifles, but maybe I can help.”

 The Turian nodded. “I'm looking for something accurate. Short burst, ideally. I don't like the 'spray and pray', but I want something with a higher ROF than a pistol. The Locust is a very nice gun. I don't suppose you know where you can get one of those, do you?”

 “You could ask Natsumi. Most of my former associates from my earlier merc days are in jail otherwise I'd send you to them.”

 “Alright, I will ask her.” Iocus nodded. He watched Madura walk back into the hallway. He turned back to the Krogan, who was staring at the Asari, and sighed. “Try not to flirt _too_ much with the Asari. We actually want this one to stick around. Do you want to show her the crystal? I have a couple of questions for Irina, but I need to wait until she's done showering.”

 “Hey, alright. I won't flirt _too_ much.” He headed over to her. “Alright, I've been tasked with giving you the official tour. First, we'll go by the labs, then the lounge, and then the officer's quarters for a bit.”

 “Riiight.” Iocus chuckled to himself and he made his way to the lounge. When the doors parted, he was surprised to see Irina already sitting in the corner. “I thought you were going to take a shower?”

 “Yea, then I realized they were down for program updates. This is what happens when I am actually responsible and schedule maintenance on a recurring schedule.” She looked up from her data pad. “Did you need something, Iocus?”

 “So,” he started, sitting down next to her on the chair next to the couch where she was resting. “I figured we should get Jim a little...present. He wants some guns for the ship, and you'd know what kind of power rating the ship could handle. She's not exactly a brand new model after all. Got any suggestions?”

 “Hm,” She closed her letter and thought. “I wouldn't necessarily go with something too overpowered, which is most readily available guns will be. Automated turrets might be the best thing- they won't draw too much from the rest of the ship's power or they shouldn't at least.”

 “Turrets are good. Although VI-assisted targeting might be a little expensive, don't you think?”

 “It would be, but it could be done manually. Either would work well, as long as someone was willing to do the targeting. Don't look at me. I couldn't hit a bolder.” She thought for a moment. It was impossible to see behind her helmet, but she smiled a bit with her next statement. “Besides, it shouldn't be too difficult to work it into the ship's VI either, really. It might not be the best at targeting, but I suppose I heard _you_ volunteering to do it manually.”

 “If needed, I could. I've been trained and I could certainly practice if needed.”

 “Turrets are really little, though. You might regret that.”

 “It's not the size of the dog in the fight. It's the size of the fight within the dog, as the Human saying goes. I wouldn't have to be _in_ them to target. Do you think you could put together a few upgrade packages? We'll see about getting fitted.”

 She nodded, “I should be able to do something.”

 “And now we should probably rescue Madura from Giro...”

 

***

 

 


	5. Aria's Errand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to my beloved friend Ilsa "Izzy" Walden who passed away in a car accident on Monday. She was 42 and left behind two teenage daughters (one which was friends with my niece) and a husband.

Aria T'Loak frowned as she tried to keep her face hidden. She didn't want her subject to know she was being watched nor did she want too many of the life forms on Omega to know it was her. Her purple skin and markings were fairly distinct among the people on the station (and in most parts of the galaxy).

 Then again, the tradeswoman never doubted her intelligence The doctor wasn't exactly stupid, not to mention her exposure to things in the universe since birth; she probably knew she was being followed. Whether she knew it was her or not, was another story. It wasn't often the Pirate Queen of Omega took it upon herself to be a part of a errand such as this, but this one was a personal request and for the amount of credits up for grabs; she wasn't going to risk it to one of her lackies. Not even to her own daughter Liselle. It was only a coincidence she was found by Nyreen and had she had been taken under her wing.

Nannette Pyxis had hired her to keep an eye on her granddaughter while she was on Omega. The doctor was the third in line to her guild's hierarchy and the current matriarch was not going to let another family take it from hers. No, the covert clan-like guild will not fall into the wrong hands and Aria was determined not to allow it to happen. The family had been too good for business on her station and if someone else took control, there was no guarantee they would continue to do so despite being stupid if they didn't.

 The Asari took a drink from her coffee cup and glanced every once and a while to make sure she could see her target. “Good.” She thought to herself as her target walked into the greasy spoon diner. After ordering the well-known 'liquid tar' coffee, she settled into reading her data pad. Aria decided to update the grandparent in code.

 

_Nana,_

_I found the planet you suggested to see. Arrived safely and is settling in. I do not expect to leave any time soon according to my sources, there are some rather interesting opportunities where it could benefit both of us. It was disappointing though since Omega beach hasn't been very crowded as of late, infact one could say it was rather lean. It's been raining a lot._

_-Air_

 

Not too much later, a succinct reply from a withheld address arrived in her inbox.

 

_Air,_

_Sorry to hear about the beach. Rain sounds lovely. I cannot wait to see the pictures. I do hope they are lively._

_-Nana._

 

Aria frowned. Leave it to Nana to want visual proof of wellness. It was like the other Asari didn't trust her. She was Omega. What would she have to gain by lying to her?  Granted, if it had been her daughter, she'd be insisting on the same. Resigning to the fact she needed to provide proof, she tapped a command into her mailing system, to check the listings to send an invitation for a small job to a small mercenary group she had a couple of encounters with.

 

***

 

 


	6. Omega or Bust

Shopping wasn't something the Storm Singers often did in person. Usually their trades and purchases often required the extranet and deliveries to their location by a trusted courier. This time, there was a job attached to it and the group was not going to miss out on the credits. Business had been slow lately and there were much needed repairs and upgrades needed for both the ship and the base. Their supplies were low, but the only thing that would fix it was cold, hard credits.

 “So, where are we headed?” Jim asked as he and the other Storm Singers loaded up the Corvette with supplies.

 “Omega.” Iocus grunted as he loaded a very large tote into the ship.

 “Good.” Giro took the tote from the Turian and secured it to the storage shelves. “Me and an Elcor have some unfinished business.”

 “I think I might be able to get us in without you needing to resort to violence. However,” Iocus grunted as he loaded another heavy tote. “our little _side errand_ will probably help satiate that urge. The message wasn't very specific about how the individual was to be removed.”

 Guiding a small electronic lift filled with a couple dozen more totes, Irina secured it in the storage area with one graceful swipe across her omni-tool. “Alright. All loaded up.”

 When she looked up, the annoyed look mirrored between her male crew mates. The Krogan voiced this shared reaction. “Really, Iri?”

 “What? Body mechanics really aren't my thing. Why do the work when I can make tools which can? Don't get mad if I'm using my brain over my brawn.”

 Once the cargo bay doors were secure, the band of mercenaries made their way toward the bridge. “Back to the hive of scum and villainy, huh?”

 “It's not _that_ wretched, Jim.” Iocus shrugged as the pilot rounded and sat down at the helm. The Turian watched as Jim manipulated the controls to do the required pre-flight checks.

 The Human raised an eyebrow, but his companions couldn't see it. “I must have been visiting the wrong part of it then.”

 Giro crossed the bridge with Irina not too far behind. “We're all talking about Omega, right?”

 “I think so?” Irina offered, then teased. “Are you, Io?”

 “All the pretty lights hide the filth. And besides, we're going to do a favor for the leadership. It won't be _that_ bad.”

 “Don't say it, let me guess.” Jim whipped around on his swivel chair. ““ There is no way this could possibly go wrong.”.”

 “What could possibly go wrong?”

 Jim rolled his eyes, but swerved back around and continued to his prep for launch.

 

 ***


	7. Mission Perimeters

The docks on Omega were practically empty. Few tourists visited the once popular must-stop, now only those who were either brave or stupid (mostly both) soul would stray and leave having been robbed one way or another. While it was a terrible place for the ill-informed tourist to wind up, it was a hub into the shades of grey to all the black type markets. If you wanted it, and it was outlawed somewhere in the galaxy, your probably going to find it on Omega.

 The Storm Singers wound their way down the main drag. As they did, Giro mentioned, “before I forget, we should probably try to find a weapons or demolitions tech at some point. We need bigger guns and bigger explosions.”

“Isn't there some Human saying about “trying to compensate for something” or something like that?” Irina asked Jim, loud enough for Giro to hear.

 Before Giro could respond, Iocus mentioned “Major Hashiba recommended a vendor for me. I have a purchase to make. They should have what I am looking for. I can't speak for your tastes or needs, of course, but it might be worth taking a look It wouldn't hurt to have a few vendors available though. Perhaps Aria could have some suggestions, And I have some basic demolitions training, so if the need comes and Giro wants a big boom; we can make a big boom.”

“I knew a guy once.” Jim was pensive. “I hear he'd flunked out of the Earth Alliance Military. Like bombs way too much. I think his name was Crazy Harry.”

“Does he prefer midnight to set them off?” Iocus chuckled.

 Giro smirked at Jim, “really? Maybe you're useful after all!”

 “I think we might do a psych eval before hiring him.” Irina trailed of, realizing she spoke the obvious.

 “Yes, yes you do.” Jim nodded.

 “As long as he can make a very special handgun, I have in mind; he's okay in my book.”

 “Umm, Giro.” Irina's eyebrow raised under her mask, “He's an explosives expert. Meeting him should be a blast.”

 “Anyway.” Jim yawned. “We're here. I'll go and take those specifications to that vendor, Io. It's on my way back to the ship. Yell _when_ you get into trouble.”

 “If there are any questions the vendor has, give him my extranet address. I'll respond.” Iocus sent the pilot the specifications through his omni-tool and the pilot set off back down where they came.

 “Well, let's get going then.” Giro pointed to the direction need to go with his thumb to the building behind them.

 The Turian frowned. “Did you want to banter with the Elcore a bit, or did we just want to go in?”

 "FINE!” The Krogan huffed. “We can just go in.”

 Iocus chuckled and lead the group towards the Afterlife Club. He waved at the Elcor bouncer and waited to see if he was recognized.

 The Elcor clearly feigned his indifference. “Back of the line, Turian.”

 “Oh, no you don't!” Giro poked the Elcor with his finger. “We _actually_ have an appointment this time!”

 “I am Iocus Tokinthes of the Storm Singers Mercenary Company to see Aria, upon her request. The passphrase is: There is only one rule on Omega.”

 “Indeed there is. I'd advise more discretion. This isn't the Turian military.” The Elcor made an audible sigh then his eyes grew in revelatory horror. “He's with you, isn't he?”

 Giro's face beamed in victory.

 The Elcor shut his eyes in abject misery. “There is no way this ends well. Go ahead.”

 Iocus fired of a snappy, sarcastic salute while Giro whistled while passing the Elcore. The bouncer went back to his duties, but not before he noted the half-jog the Quarian had to do to keep up with the other two.

 The Afterlife nightclub, above anything else, was a loud place. The base line from the electronic music vibrated the walls and the floor. The large crowd gathered on both the dance floor and around the bar. They were intoxicated by the alcohol, the drugs, and the hypnotic music. Giro was reminded just how much he hated it. It wasn't as loud as fighting in a Thrasher Maw in a Krogan right of passage, but it trumped anything in Pravia.

 Io fiddled with his armor a bit, oddly nervous. “Strangely, the same kind of dampeners that aid in protecting auditory organs when firing projectile weapons are used here.”

 “Too bad you can't tell!” Irina yelled as she caught up with the duo. She passed by a Human. Clearly out of his mind with the effects of Red Sand in his system.

 Even on the upper level, the multiple bars were crowded with a representative census from across the galaxy. It was no wonder there was a need for nightclub security; the place was almost standing room only. In the center of the room was the dancefloor and boarding it were the lounge booths of the VIP section.

 “Hey, there is an area over there with only two people in it. One Batarian and one Asari. I'm guessing that's Aria.”

 “And here I was just about to ask a guard or a bartender where she was, Giro.” Iocus shrugged.

 “I guess trying a pick-up line at Aria when we meet her is a no-no,”

 The former Lieutenant started to say something, then stopped. He tried again, and failed to get anything out. It was the third attempt, “I, uh, If you really want to, have fun. Just make sure Iri and I are back on the ship first.”

 “I don't know if I want to see you get pulled apart or something today. It's not like we have a medic aboard. You'd have to go into one of those clinics around here and we all know what those are like.” Irina shuttered. “You can catch more infections in one of those than licking a bacterial infected petri dish.”

 Giro lead the group to the occupied booth where Aria was. They were stopped by a Batarian bodyguard. The Krogan was the first to speak. “Howdy, we're here to see Aria.”

 The bodyguard rolled all four of his eyes in all different directions simultaneously. “Everyone says that. It's almost never actually true.”

 “In our case it is true. Now move!”

 “Maybe we should introduce ourselves?” Iocus offered, cutting in before Giro could respond further. This caught the attention of the Asari, who watched with amusement on her face.

 “I'm Korlec Giro of the Storm Singers. You do not want to know how many punks, tougher than you, I've killed. Now move!”

 "Who the hell are the Storm Singers?” The bodyguard goaded.

 “The baddest group of mercenaries this side of Tuchanka!"

  Iocus put his hands behind his back and stood up straight, at attention. He winked at the Batarian and the Asari in turn, but said nothing.

 Aria tried her best, not to crack up, as if she was watching some kind of stage show. “Bray, bring them over here. I think this torturous proceeding has gone on long enough.”

 Iocus and Irina chuckle a bit, but wait for Giro to take the lead. The Krogan walked up to Aria, “Howdy! I'm Giro of the Storm Singers. Obviously, I'm the handsome, funny, and cool one.”

 Offering a less sarcastic salute than the one he gave the bouncer, “Iocus Tokinthes, ma'am. Please excuse our public relations expert. He can be a bit exuberant at times.”

 Aria narrowed her eyes, all trace of mirth gone, and met his eyes. “I don't believe we have actually met.”

 He straightened up. “No, ma'am. We have not, but we did receive your message.”

 Her voice went flat. “I thought I told you to be discrete.”

 “You did, and for us, I suppose this is a discrete. For Giro, at least.”

 “For me, discrete means, not wearing my heavy metal get up.” Giro winked.

 “On the other hand, ma'am, our execution maybe slightly different, but you requested a meeting and we are here.”

 After a few moments, Aria composed herself. “You don't seem to be as promising as I hoped.”

 “To be honest, ma'am. There is something of an appearance, a front so to speak, that we put on. It makes people misjudge us and those people are much easier to trick or just plain shoot, if they're not taking us seriously. When we need to be serious, we are.”

 “Or maybe you just start the talking while the Krogan hits things. I've seen the type before.”

 “Hey! That's a stereotype! Now you're just being hurtful!” Giro protested.

 “It makes an excellent spectacle, or distraction.” Irina offered as the server brought water for all the newcommers.

 “Fair.” Aria seemed to be waiting for something.

 “Okay, let's get down to boring ol' business, then. What would you like to “maybe” happen potentially to someone or something.” Giro took a drink of his water, but not before he ordered a mojito.

 The Asari smirked for a second, then lowered her voice. “Within the last few days, I've become aware of certain facts.”

 Nodding, Iocus opened his omni-tool to start taking notes. “What are these facts, ma'am?”

 “Fact one: There is someone on Omega that I would rather not be here anymore. Fact two: I don't want her killed.”

 Iocus nodded, again.

 “Fact three: I don't want anyone else to know about facts one and two.”

 “Duly noted, ma'am.”

 “Easy enough, but how will we know who this person is?” Irina asked.

 Aria folded her hands on top of the table, “because you don't see too many Biotic Turians.”

 The present Turian raised both eyebrow ridges, surprised. He didn't say anything.

 “Ah, understood.” Giro took his drink from the server which returned with the beverage.

 “Her name is Nyreen. Nyreen Kandros.”

 “Do you want us to approach her directly? Or try something a bit more subtle?” Iocus noted.

 “I'll leave that up to you.”

 “Could you tell us a bit about what she's doing? Something that we might be able to convince her with to relocate?” Irina took another drink out of her glass.

 “We were close once. Not for some time, though.” Aria snorted, her thoughts distant, recalling her memories. “She thinks this place can be more than what it is. I think the universe needs it to be exactly what it is.”

 “There is a chance you are both right, but that's probably not a discussion you want to have with us.”

 “Signs of your competence, Mr. Tokinthes.”

 “Status quo being useful for the moment, when you say you don't want anyone else knowing about the aforementioned facts; I am assuming Nyreen is no exception?” Iocus wrote a few more notes down on his omni-tool.

 “She may think she's right. She isn't of course. I have nothing against her personally, and her acting the way she is; it's going to get her killed. Or worse, kidnapped.”

 “By whom if you don't mind me asking. It's something we could possibly have as leverage.”

 “This is Omega. It doesn't take much imagination. Point in a direction and shoot. You'll hit someone who wouldn't mind taking her down.”

 “That popular, huh?” Giro swirled his drink with the straw, then said wirley. “So basically everyone with a gun.”

 “This is Omega. Everyone has a gun.” She paused, “or at least should have a gun.”

 “Alright. Well, the most obvious tactic I can think of is for us to try to hire her for an operation. As it happens, we have one which might require a certain set of skills that I suspect someone with her background would know. Do you think she would be amendable to temporary mercenary work?”

 “I don't know. I haven't spoken to her.”

 “Well I guess we best get to work then.” Giro offered as he finished his drink.

 “I suppose we should start with doing that ourselves. We can offer the carrot of a paying job requiring tactical skills and stick from some of the more...firearm-loving citizens of Omega.”

 “Good idea, Io.” Irina nodded, already in the process of trying to find her via the cameras on the station. “Do you know how we could get in touch with her?”

 “No. I know she is here, but I don't know where specifically. She's trying to keep herself under the radar, as the Human saying goes.”

 “Iocus nodded. “We'd have to start by finding her. We could possibly blow some smoke and get some gangs interested, but that seems risky. Like I said earlier-distraction.”

 “Or Dr. Solus may know where she is. We could give him a ring.”

 “And...that's not a bad idea.” The Turian snuffled.

 “Eh, I have my moments.” Giro shrugged, “speaking of which, we may want to leave here before people start to take notice of us anymore then they already have. I personally blame Irina's talkativeness.”

 Irina half-glared at Giro from behind her mask. She mumbled an obscenity in her native tongue and with the vociferous base-line boomed, there was no way of the other any of the others could have heard her.

 “Is there anything else you can suggest that we could employ to convince her to leave? I think we got enough to start with,” Iocus closed his omni-tool, “if we approach her right away, but anything more would help.”

 Aria shook her head, “no, I don't.”

 “Is she musically talented? We could say our band needs a new member.”

 “But then, Giro, she'd have to hear your sing.” Irina teased, closing her own omni-tool. “And I doubt we'd get anywhere with that.”

 “I'll have you know I've been practicing!”

 “Is that what that noise is coming from the bottom of the base is? I thought it was some sort of vermin dying.”

 “One more thing, on an unrelated note before we get to work.” Iocus asked as the rest of the team stood up from the table. “Could you recommend a reputable firearms dealer on the station? I'm looking for a new one. The last one I did business had an altercation with the Blue Suns and has no longer the need the equipment he had in his store. His memorial was last week.”

 “I heard about that one. I didn't realize he was reputable.”

 “They have reputable firearms dealers here?” Giro scuffed.

 “Not anymore apparently.” Aria snarked. “I do not have a favorite store on Omega. Bray, send them a list of the reasonable ones.”

 Iocus slid out of the booth, stood, then bowed. Mostly for variety's sake. He exchanged extranet information with the Batarian, for the requested information. “Did anyone want to get another drink, or should we go and see Doctor Solus?”

 “Well, for the sake of secrecy...” Giro whispered, cleared his throat, and then projected, “Okay! So we'll get right on delivering that shipment of Asari liquor for you, ma'am. See you around!”

 With that, Giro walked away from booth with Irina.

 “He's touched, isn't he?”

 “He's unique, ma'am. We'll send you updates on the extranet. If you run across anything we can use, we'd appreciate it if you would pass it on.”

 She shrugged, then watched the Turian depart. Once they were a safe distance away, Bray frowned. “I kind of feel bad using them like this. I doubt it would be hard to actually find her.”

 “The Matriarch made it clear she didn't want her to know the guild was looking in on her. Especially with her relationship with the Heiress Apparent. Who needs a Krogan soap opera when you have a bunch like them? No, I think it would be best if the good doctor was off of my station. She, well, complicates things and you know how I feel about complications.”

 “Still doesn't explain why we're letting them find her. We know she's with Nyreen.”

 “The Matriarch wanted proof she was alive. I had a friend place bugs aboard their ship. They'll do the dirty work and we'll get the credits. Who knows. Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll take her with them.”

 “What about if she doesn't go aboard the ship?”

 “I thought of that. I had the server put a tracking device in the Krogan's drink. Once he swallowed and activated, it will give off a signal to his location anywhere on Omega for the next galactic standard day. Cameras throughout the station will follow them around recording them and eventually, we'll get the proof the Matriarch needs. Once done, the link will sever like nothing happened and the Krogan will be able to process the bug through his natural bodily functions. Those mercenaries will never know. But, I don't think we'll have to worry about that.”

 “Why do you say that?”

 “Because from what I understand, the Turian is just her type.”

 

***

 

 


	8. Solus

The clinic they were needing to visit was in one of the residential areas. It was residential only in the sense people lived there. The homes were upsteps from cardboard boxes and tin shacks, but only just.

 As they weaved their way in the maze of structures, Iocus asked. “Giro, I thought you were “on the wagon” as the Human saying goes.”

 “Yeah, he's on a program.”

 “Yep! A three step program!”

 “I was thinking more like five or six.” Irina offered as she walked beside the Krogan in question.

 “Five?”

 “Yeah, five. Step one: give up booze. Step two: listen to heavy metal. Step three...”

 “Hit on Asari.” The Turian chuckled as he followed the duo. “I see where this might be going.”

 “Step four: drown sorrows of rejection. Step five: oops! Off the wagon. Back to step one.”

 “Keep on going guys, keep it up.” The Krogan rolled his eyes. “You're asking for an encore performance of “I Would Do Anything For Love” by Meatloaf.”

 They arrived a the clinic and the two LOKI mechs on guard eyed them at the entrance. Iocus nodded a silent, but polite greeting and the group proceeded to the front desk.

 The young Human at the desk acknowledged them hostile. “Oh, it's you again. You don't have any obvious wounds. Do you have an appointment?”

 “I'll have you know my friend is critically wounded!” Giro pointed at Iocus with his sausage sized finger. “The part of his brain that makes jokes is completely messed up!”

 Iocus gently facepalmed. “We actually just wanted a moment of Dr. Solus' time, when it's convenient. We brought a message from Dr. Callen, who worked here.”

 “Oh, I remember you.” He said flatly. “I'll drop the doc a note. Give me about fifteen minutes and he should have a break.”

 Acknowledging he understood, Iocus gave a curt nod. The group went to find a seat in the waiting room. The room was beige and was not impressive on any level. Unless one considered bland fascinating.

 Irina claimed the bench and stretched out across of it. As he walked by, Iocus noted her email system was open and clicking on her inbox. Finding an arm chair large enough for Turians to sit on, he sat down on the hard, wooden surface and scrolled through the news outlets.

 On the table top, next to Giro, was a copy of Really Overpowered Guns: Weekly which Giro was tempted to pick up; however, once he looked at the date, he didn't bother. Six months ago was hardly the latest in firearm tech. Instead, he amused himself by watching an episode of Hellsing Ultimate. After the allotted time, Giro shut off his omni-tool; hysterically, laughing loudly at a joke of very questionable taste.

 The group was herded into a very sterile white and steel office. Dr. Mordin Solus eyed the group. “Now. What are you here for? Didn't I mention not interested?”

 “Dr. Calen says hi. He's doing well.” Iocus paused briefly, “and we aren't selling anything; just a small favor to ask of you.”

 “We're looking for some Turian biotic.” Giro added.

 “A...umm...Nyreen..I think her name is.” Irina scratched at her helmet, like she was thinking.

 “And you just assumed...” A rather miraculous event occurred. Dr. Solus interrupted himself as he realized what was said, “once more? Turian biotic?”

 “Yes.” Irina nodded.

 He got up from his desk and paced back and forth. “Turians don't think highly of biotics. Generally keep them quiet or forced to server with Cabal. Seen on Omega?”

 Irina nodded, again. “Yes, have you seen one?”

 “Unused to considering. Maybe. No probably!” He rushed back to his desk. He tapped on his computer, searching furiously. “So stupid! Should have considered. Called herself Alanna. Obviously fake. Human sounding name? Saw evidence of biotic...NEVERMIND!”

 He stopped and eyed Iocus. “Why are you looking for her? Not part of Cabal. Paid to hunt her down?”

 “We just need to talk to her.” The solitary female in the room tried to assure him.

 “Well, actually, we need to get her off the station because people want her off the station without a helmet.” The Krogan took a bag of strange orange and purple chips and began to consume them, loudly.

 Iocus' eyes narrowed at the mention of the Cabal. “No, not hunt her down.”

 “Remember you dealt with Dr. Nexall's attacker. Seem trustworthy.” He mused to himself. “Could do anything for money. Come here. Thinking treating age old machines.” He stopped again. Lost in thought once more.

 “Doctor Solus?” Iocus tentatively began. “I promise you, we're not looking to harm her in anyway. In fact, we want to get her out of the way of possible harm.”

“Notoriously bad at manipulating people.” He shook his head while he broke out o his trance. He pushed the button on his computer. Each of their omni-tools chimed a notification.

 “Oh, crap! Not another chain letter! You fool me once, Price of Nigeria. Fool me no more! I'm onto you!” Giro tapped a few keys. “Oops! Sorry. Clicked on the spam folder. Yeah, not so good with tech. Ah! There is the blinking thing!”

 “Yes, you're more the one to break the tech instead of utilize it.” The tech expert chuckled.

 Iocus reflexibly checked his omni-tool to figure out how it wasn't already set to silent. He looked up as he realized it was an address. “Thank you, Doctor Solus. Is there anything we can do for you while we're on Omega?”

 After a few minutes, Mordin looked up. “Don't come back here. Unless you're wounded.”

 “We can do that. Or not do that as the case maybe. Did you have a message you wanted us to pass along to Dr. Callen?”

 “I have his address.”

 “Fair enough. Thanks for your time and help, Doctor.”

 He nodded, “will be here if you need me. Only if you need me.”

 

 ***


	9. 30 Minute Door Knock Scene

Iocus pulled the group aside just as they exited the hospital and headed to the address. “I don't know how much you know about the Cabal, but without getting into too many details, if I show up at her door, she's going to panic and more than likely start shooting. So, it might be best for someone else to take point.”

Glancing at Giro, Irina asked hesitantly. “Um, who would think would be best?”

With a jaunty grin, “Giro did such an impressive job last time. I think it should be him.”

“Second.”

“Well, should I try the 'need a member of our band' angle or that 'I'm confessing my undying love for her' angle?”

“Remember what I said about her shooting? I'd go with 'hiring her for an operation needing military training' angle. It's not a complete lie. We could utilize her for that Systems Alliance mission. Particularly if she has Cabal training.”

Irina gave Giro a mock sympathetic pat on his arm. “You could always sing to her later.”

“Alright, already. Fine. I'll take the more straight forward approach.” Giro hugged. He approached the door and knocked.

There was no answer.

Exaggerating his volume, Giro spoke. “I am Korlec Giro o the Storm Singers. We are a mercenary group and would like to hire you for a job.”

Again, there was no answer.

“I will start singing ballads right here, right now if you don't at least give us answer.”

“Now, that'd get me to open the door.” Irina muttered under her breath. “Are we sure we don't have the wrong address?”

“Okay, listen. Your life is in danger and we're trying to help you.” Giro pleaded.

Iocus surveyed the corridor. No life signs, except for a feral Tom cat, were present. Even the animal skirted away in haste. “Perhaps address her by name?”

The Quarian cleared her throat and tapped on the door, “Nyreen?”

Continued silence answered her.

“Iocus, do you want to try something?” Irina frowned, gesturing to the door.

“I hope this doesn't go badly.”

“Look on the bright side,” rubbing his chin, Giro chuckled. “at least something would happen.”

The former military Lieutenant walked in front of the wooden door, making himself visible, and deliberately avoiding touching any of his weapons. “Nyreen Kandros. We just want to talk. It's important.”

“Nothing. Should we leave a message to let her know we were here?”

“Oh, I'm sure won't have to go that far, Iri.” The Krogan popped a mint into his mouth. “I'm sure everyone in this block already knows we're here. Let's just try to open the door. Maybe we'll get lucky. Carefully, though.”

“Worth a try.” Iocus shrugged.

Irina nudged the Krogan forward. He groaned as he went back to the door. “Fine! I'll do it!”

He reached out and slowly opened the door. As he pushed on it, the door gave and opened without resistance. However, what it revealed was a ransacked apartment: bed covers were tussled, couch cushions were shown, and shattered glass littered the floor. What was most disturbing was the the splattered blood mixture of three different colors: red, blue, and purple.

Iocus bit off a curse and drew his side arm. “Giro, take right; I'll go left. Let's make sure the apartment is clear.”

The apartment was a small efficiency apartment which consisted of three rooms: kitchen, bathroom, and hybrid bedroom/ living room. It was sparsely decorated and the stacks of boxes indicated movement of habitat.

“Got a body over here, boss!” Giro called beyond the dividing wall between the kitchen and great room.

“Let's finish the sweep then we can look at corpses. I don't want anyone shooting us in the back while we do that.”

“It's singular.”

“Iri, close the door so we don't have any unexpected visitors.” Iocus called as he exited the petite bathroom. He entered the kitchen. “What do we have?”

“I think it's a Batarian.”

“You think?” He bent down beside the Krogan. “How bad is it?”

“You know, someday I'll actually go for my medical degree, but today isn't that day. Speaking of which, we may want to consider getting one.” Giro's half sarcasm was not missed. “From what I can tell, let's just say whoever was here; got a head and stayed ahead.”

As the Turian heard Irina just about to enter the kitchen, he caught her. “Ugh, Irina. You might not want to see this.”

Taking his advice, she turned and went to investigate Nyreen's computer instead.

“Huh, looks like a pistol of some kind. Must have been one heck of a shot do this much damage.” He mumbled a bit while taking a closer look at the decapitated derelict. He lifted the collar of the dead's coat. He exposed a tattoo which made him grumble. “Hey, Giro. You're going to love this. There is a Blood Pack tattoo.”

Giro only grunted in response.

“Yeah, that's my thought too. We're gunna have to figure out what happened here. Aria would not be pleased if we didn't, particularly if they bothered her friend.”

“No kidding.”

“They couldn't be. Well, okay, they _are_ this stupid. Giro, you're not going to believe this.” Iocus' palm smacked his forehead plates and it echoed a bit as the sound traveled through the apartment. He pulled the omni-tool he recovered from the Batarian's cloak and rotated it for the Krogan to see. “Apparently, the Blood Pack thinks this is their territory. They were going to extort some sort of rent payment from the residents.”

“Now, that doesn't seem so stupid.”

“No, it's not, but leaving written evidence of it is. Oh, and the decapitated Batarian with the Blood Pack tattoo.” He cringed , then shook his hand which was still stinging. “Sorry, I think my palm hurts. How do Humans do that so easily?”

“Years of practice.” Iri called from just beyond the wall. “I would guess.”

“Anyway, if Nyreen was anywhere close to being involved with this; we really should figure out what happened.”

“Since when have the Blood Pack let Batarians become members?” Giro scratched his head, confused.

“Dunno. More questions to ask.” Iocus' smile grew into a wicked grin. “Giro, are you feeling intimidating? I think we may want to pay a visit to their local recruiter.”

“Paying a visit to a Blood Pack recruiter,” Giro's grin matched Iocus'. “Sounds fun. Let's get to it then!”

“Yup!” Iocus checked his weapons. “Fun is exactly what it sounds like.”

 

***

 

 


	10. New Recruits

A small churp sounded on Iocus' omni-tool. It contained a message from Bray, inquiring about the messy business in the residental district. “He says Aria is warding of Blood Pack bloodshed at the moment and she would appreciate it if we could investigate a Salarian that's been living in the area. She says he has a habit of keeping his ears open and his mouth shut and could quite possibly know where Nyreen is at.”

“Right.” Irina scoffed. “A Salarian that keeps their mouth shut. Is that even possible?”

“As much as a Salarian can, I suppose.” Giro offered as the three of them stopped. “Which really isn't for too long.”

“I guess we should pay this Salarian a visit.” Iocus closed his omni-tool, but not before inquiring about the Salarian's address.

“Agreed.”

The directions of Aria's senechal lead the trio to an apartment not too far from Nyreen's place. “Irina, why don't you go first. You're the least threatening-looking of the three of us.”

“Thanks, Io. I think?” The lone female stepped up to the door and knocked. “I'm looking for Tellor.”

She waited for a few moments. No answer.

“Seriously? Not again!” Giro whined. “Do any of these people actually open their doors? At all?”

Irina rolled her eyes under her mask, then knocked again. Louder.

The voice which came was hurried and anxious. “Deposit. Arrive soon. Blood pack goons!”

“We're actually not with the Blood Pack. Besides, I don't think they'd hire a Quarian.”

The door creaked open and the Salarian blocked the opening. “Quarians. Known for mercenary work. Will fight for parts. Known connections to Blood Pack. Not looking for protection money. You looking for?”

Iocus coughed. “Well, we might be mercenaries, but we're not working for the Blood Pack.”

“Yea, I'm actually known for killing Blood Pack members.” Giro grunted.

With one quick look, the Salarian's antenna sprung up. “Turian mercenary. Working for Citadel patrols? No. Citadel authorization shown upfront. Alliance connections? No...” He trailed of for a moment, becoming deeply pensive, before turning his attention back to them. “Mission to stop Blood pack? Why a Salarian informat?”

“Bray said you are fairly good about being discreet. Are you sure you want all the details?”

“Details important. Can't assess situation without. Details are currency. Names, Ids, fingerprints. All worthwhile. Without details. Accurate information not assured. Might step into Blood Pack trap. Are we understanding each other, Quarian?”

“...yes. I think.”

“The short version, the one that shouldn't get you into any trouble, is that we are looking into a break-in. One which has the Blood Pack's fingerprints all over it. Quite literally.”

“I trade in information. Whatever is valuable. Maybe information on female Turian. May or maynot lived there. Nothing on break-in. Need information? Price must be right. Information very valuable.”

“As it turns out, we're looking for information on both.” Irina offered. “Nyreen's apartment was broken into and a dead Blood Pack member, who was Batarian, was found inside. Turian, Batarian, and a third type of blood (which we couldn't identify) was there.”

Giro whispered to Iocus, “why do I get the feeling that this is the type of guy, who within a week would know all the questionable extranet sites you've ever been on?”

“Krogan pornography? Let's not even  _think_ about that.” He whispered back.

The Krogan feigned shock. “I had in mind sites about glam music. I don't want to know about all the creepy sites you go to.”

“Nyreen had access to certain passages. Omega mostly hollow. Sixty-five percent passages. Easy accessable. But there is a price. Always a price. You have connections. Don't you?”

Iocus coughed and returned to the important conversation. “Of course we do. Single. Ex-military. What do you think?”

He intentionally didn't elaborate.

“Blood Pack. Too low for most agencies. Something high scale. Draw this much attention. Whoever bosses are. I require good words. Very simple.”

“We don't really have bosses per se. We're mercenaries. We do contract work. We certainly have contacts of course. You say you're looking for a good word? We could arrange that.”

“Omega not safe. For sometime. Gang wars. Increasing. Stability falling. Not going to stay long.” He closed the door for a moment, but returned with his own firearm. “Follow. Passage is in basement. False Valve opening. Very obvious.”

“So, you're looking for, shall we say, new employment opportunity?” Iocus asked as he followed the Salarian.

“Anything, Need off Omega.”

“I'm sure we can work something out which will work for you. We're the Storm Singers Mercenary Company at your service. I'm Iocus Tokinthes.”

The Salarian expertly grabbed a piece of horizontal pipe. He spun it ninety degrees, and used it to slide open a full pocket door, which lead to what once was a maintenance shaft.

Iocus pointed to the Krogan as he entered the shaft. “That is Korlec Giro.”

Then in turn, pointed to the Quarian. Before entering, she interjected. “As'Irina nar Tombay. You can just call me Irina. Or Iri.”

“We're currently taking care of some business and then we are off to perform a contract for the System's Alliance Military. If you help us out with our local business, I am sure we can arrange for a position. How recently did you seen Nyreen?”

“Never seen Nyreen go through here. Tracked movement. Unauthorized access. Need information pay.”

“Tellor, would you feel more comfortable with one of us leading?” Irina asked.

“Turians built for combat.”

“I'm also wearing armor. Giro, you want to take rear guard?”

“But then how will Irina make me her shield for  _when_ we get ambushed. Not  _if._ ”

“I'll just switch to Iocus. I assume.” She chuckled.

“I'm not quite as good at providing cover, but then again, armor,” turning to the Salarian, he asked. “Tellor, did you have any recommendations for searching? Or should we just do a left hand rule walk?”

“Isn't ancient ruin. Designed to keep out. Practical access for maintenance. Easy navigate.”

“Alright, I will take the lead, but you tell us where you think we should be going.” Iocus gestured for the group to follow him into the bowls of Omega.

“Affirmative. Recommend caution. Not only one tracking Turian.”

Iocus drew his pistol. “Let's  _not_ split up, gang.”

Whoever designed Omega was careful about not making the tunnels a twisty maze of little offshoot passages, all alike. Each one was given some sort of distinguishing feature whether it was just a different color or some sort of artwork, they were all easy to tell which floor they were on. At the bottom of the next ladder, lead the troop to a cooridor. Irina thought and said the mostly blue and green mosaic was lovely. “It's a shame it's not somewhere more people can see it.”

“It's probably why it's still so beautiful.” Giro offered. “Above, the hooligans would have graffiti'd it a long time ago.

The Salarian nudged Giro's arm. The corridor was wider than the others so the group could walk two by two. “Krogan. Something wrong. Reverberations too intense for five. Keep your guard up. Don't intend on dying. Here.”

“Got ya.” He drew Alice.

After several minutes and a rounding of the next corner, they were met by the shadow of a female Turian. She cocked the gun in her hands and in an authoritative voice, and the flanging of her subvocals reverberated, “halt right there!”

The Krogan didn't move, but spoke. “I guess you're Nyreen.”

“Depends. Who are you?”

“A group of mercenaries called the Storm Singers. We're here to help you, if you can believe that.”

 “Here to help me?” She scoffed. “With what?”

“To help you get off this station in one piece.” Irina offered, once she tucked behind Iocus.

“ _She_ sent you, didn't she?” She made an audible groan.

“Yep, she did.” Giro chuckled. “Assuming we're both talking about the Asari with the inflated ego.”

Nyreen laughed, “I guess you're safe enough.”

Walking into the flashlight illumination from a darkened corridor, a female Turian showed herself with an assault rifle slung on her shoulder. A steel-blue colored Asari joined her. Both females had been roughed up. The Turian had butterfly stitches over a wound on her forehead to her cheek. A bruise was forming around it.

The Asari she was escorting, despite having a split lip and a bandage around her hand and another fastened on her forehead; Iocus couldn't help noting how elegant her features were. Her face was rounded and her eyes were friendly. She had a light dusting of slightly darker than her skin markings which resembled freckles across her nose. She was lithe and he could only guess at how agile she would be if she had any fighting capabilities. She could easily be both underestimated and deadly. 

Irina elbowed him with a smirk. She brought his attention back to Nyreen, just in time for the female Turian to ask, “why does she want me off the station?”

“To be perfectly honest, I think she cares about you. In her own way, she's worried you're going to run afoul with the local mercenary groups.” Iocus then added, “and judging by the state of your apartment, that fear is somewhat justified.”

“She didn't seem to care much for my sense of humor either.” Giro frowned while Iocus rolled his eyes.

“She should run a tighter ship.”

“Maybe, yes. Maybe no. Either way, she's worried you would get shot and wants you somewhere safe.” Irina stepped out from behind the male Turian.

Nyreen turned to Iocus, “you're military. You'd understand.”

“This isn't a military instillation. Merc groups, like the Blood Pack, don't even understand the concept of discipline. You can give a low level military grunt an order, they'll follow it. The rabble around here? Good look with that. Since you didn't bat an eyelash when I mentioned it, I assume you're responsible for the Batarian in your apartment?”

She glanced at the Asari. “Yes.”

Iocus nodded in approval. “Good shot, but do you want to have to deal with that everyday?”

She looked guilty for a second or two. “Where do you want me to go? Pravala? Back to the Cabal? Some safe hidey hole in the colonies. I signed up to be a soldier.”

Her fellow Turian twitched at the word Cabal. “No, I don't think you want to do that. Tell you what, we can offer you a temporary position, as a soldier. We have a contract with the Alliance military; they're sending personnel to the colonies they're concerned will be getting hit by Batarian raiders. It'd get you off Omega and make Aria happy. After that it's up to you.”

The Krogan perked up, “and yes! We do have a dental plan!”

She frowned, thinking.

“And Karaoke!” Giro tried an attempt to entice her further.

“Don't scare her away, Giro!” Irina playfully smacked him. She turned back around and offered something more sensible. “If you want to stay on, we'd welcome you, but you certainly don't have to.”

“Look, I'll be honest with you. I agree with what Aria says what you'd like to do here on Omega, but I don't think this is the right time for it. Come with us for this mission and do some real military work. If you like it, you're welcome to stick around. If not, we can put you in touch with some folks who might appreciate your  _abilities_ .” Iocus put an unusual emphasis on the last word.

“Who do you represent? You've got an assortment of races, but said System's Alliance and I see no Humans.”

“Ultimately? Ourselves, but we do a lot of work for the Alliance.” Iocus explained.

Then Giro interjected, again. “We keep the designated bad ass Human at the base, typically.”

The Asari turned to Nyreen. “You should go. I've already brought you too far into this . Don't worry about me. I'll be alright. Please go.”

“What's this?” Iocus raised an eyebrow ridge.

Nyreen snorted, “I saw you get shaken down. I wasn't going to let that go.”

“Irina,” Giro whispered, “did you attach some type of Asari magnet to me or something?”

She whispered back before turning back to the other conversation. “Why would I do that? I'd feel sorry for the Asari.”

“Besides, you were pretty handy with that pistol.” Nyreen frowned. “Not many Asari I know go for the pistol instead of biotics, but we'll worry about that later.”

“Aren't you going to introduce us?” Iocus and Irina winced simultaneously at Giro's question. He stepped closer to the Asari, in front of the Turian.

The Asari chuckled and extended her good hand. “Rayne Pyxis.”

“Iocus Tokinthes, ma'am.” He nodded, but didn't quite bow. He turned to Nyreen and nodded to her, “and ma'am.”

Giro shook her hand. “Korlec Giro. Nice to meet you and I apologize for Iocus. He was born without a sense of humor.”

“Not true. I just believe in warning shots.” He poked Giro in the back of his head.

Irina half waved. “Irina.”

Tellor didn't extend his hand, he just nodded slightly. “Tellor. Chose no better group. With less than an hour. Impressed.”

“Fine.” Nyreen gave in. “You want to go with them, then? I'll be in. Let's get out of here.”

“More recruits?” Iocus turned to the Asari after he had taken a few steps toward the ladder to go back up to the surface once he put what Nyreen had said moments ago to what happened in the apartment. “Wait, you're the one who shot the Batarian?”

Rayne nodded.

“Well, she had the kill shot. He was so focused on me, he was literally not watching his back.”

Giro laughed boisterously and clapped. “Well, I'm officially impressed.”

“Like I said,” Iocus nodded in approval, “good shot. Do we want to get out of here? I have one stop to make before we leave Omega, but I think that's about all.”

“I need to pack a few things.” Rayne admitted, “but I don't have much to get.”

“I'll go with you so that you know where our berth is.” Irina interrupted before Giro could offer.

As the group exited the tunnel, Rayne motioned to Giro, “nice peashooter.”

He smiled as he took Alice off his shoulder. “So you noticed my friend.”

“Obviously. She's beautiful. Recent polishing?”

“I'd consider letting you shoot her, but unfortunately the recoil would probably snap your arm off. They're still trying to fix that.”

The sexual undertones were hard to miss. A mischievous gleam in her also was hard to miss. “That's alright. I prefer something with agility and more, shall we say, technique over raw power.”

“Oh, she can go the distance if that's what you're concerned...ACK!” The Krogan was pulled backward by Iocus in ways of his armored chestplate.

“Come on, Giro. We have an errand to run.”

Clicking his tongue and winking, he exited with Iocus, Nyreen, and Tellor.

“Come, on. Let's go get your stuff.” Irina gestured with her head and the Asari lead the way.

 

***

 

 

 


	11. Billiards Game

“So, what do you think of our new recruit?” Giro asked as he took a shot at the billiards table, in the lounge, aboard the Corvette.

“You mean recruits. There are more than one of them. Three specifically.” Iocus watched as Giro's ball missed. The Turian calculated his shot and made his solid colored ball into one of the corner pockets.

“You know which one I mean.”

Iocus played ignorant as he sunk another ball into the pocket. “No, I really don't.”

“The Asari.”

“You mean Rayne.”

“Is that really her name? I thought she was joking, but yeah. Her. Isn't she hot? I mean her taking out that Batarian and all. My kind of girl!”

“Every female is you kind of girl, Giro.” He said flatly. “Not sure if you noticed when she came aboard, but she had a medic's bag with her.”

“Ask and you shall receive!” He laughed as he watched him round the table for another shot. “Interesting take on her oath though.”

“Yeah. I'm sure she violates some sort of oath, convention ruling, or something.”

 “She sure is something that's for sure. Going to have to ask her about how she did that shot. It had to be like one in a million or so.”

He mumbled and took his next shot. “She sure is.”

“Noticed you didn't answer my question, though.”

“What question?”

“Avoiding, huh. Interesting, I don't think I've ever seen you avoid a question.”

Iocus missed his next shot and his voice had a smidge of annoyance. “Sorry, I was trying to focus on our game.”

“Right,” as he lined up his next shot and sunk it. He smirked. He was getting closer to winning this game. It would be the first time he did against the Turian. "Doing a good job of it too from what I just saw."

“You don't believe me.”

“No,” there was sarcasm. “No, I believe you. You're avoiding and still not answering my question. Hrm...really interesting.”

“What's so interesting?”

“Nothing.” Giro bent over and sent the number eight ball into the corner pocket. He secretly smiled before standing back up to his full height. “Nothing at all.”

 

***

 

 


	12. No More Monkey Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure you all noticed that I went ahead and posted the rest of this work all at once. It's not due to the lack of want to posting it once a week. It's just I'm not sure what the next month has in store. I just have quite a bit on my plate as I go into Summer and wanted to make sure I had it all posted before I leave you all hanging on a chapter. 
> 
> This is the last chapter for book one. Working on typing up number two. I'll post it as soon as I can.

Rayne frowned as she adjusted the frame one more time. It would have been a lot easier displaying her certifications in her field if she was only a field medic. However, she was a doctor. A doctor specializing in Xenomedicine and Field medicine. To say the least, it was a pairing which she knew would get used and often out here in the black.

She backed up without watching what was behind her. Right in the center of the frame, to make sure it wasn't tilted. She was surprised when she stumbled into something behind her.

“Hey, careful.” The timber voice of the Storm Singer's Intelligence Officer, reverberated in her ear. He caught her before she hit the ground. “We don't need our medic need a medic this early in the game.”

“I already have.” The Asari motioned to the bandage on her face and hand. Whatever she had decided to do first was not repair the damage to her face and hand with the medical supplies aboard. “Remember?”

“Ah, yes.” Iocus chuckled, “but that happened before you joined us.”

“So it doesn't count? I see how this works.” She giggled. “So what can I help you with? You don't look ill, but that hasn't stopped anyone before.”

“That's comforting, I suppose. I actually came down to see how your unpacking is going.”

“Most of my personal things are in my room. I figured that could wait until we got to your base since you have one. When I saw the state of your trauma bay, I wanted to cry and knew I needed to fix it before it was even remotely usable. Whoever was in charge of your medical supplies abord this ship should be shot. A poorly trained monkey could have done better.”

He twitched nervously. “Ma'am, unfortunately, we haven't had a medic until you came aboard. I have the most training and I only know basic first aid. It's been kind of a free-for-all.”

“Well, that's going to change.” She gestured to her qualifications with her head. “This will be my trauma bay and when we get to the base, the med bay is mine. If you need anything come see me. No more monkey business.”

An impish smile crossed his face. “Anything, huh?”

She playfully swatted his arm. “Not like that.”

“Oh you left yourself wide open for that. Wide open.”

“Ugh,” she groaned and began unpacking the next box of supplies.

Noting there was more than one certificate on the wall, he went over to view them. “You're an actual doctor? Not a doctor wanna-be? Huh, how did we get to be so lucky?”

“Perhaps some stars aligned somewhere on an astral plane or something.” She chuckled as she looked up out of the box and over at him.

“Xeno? Zeno? Something medicine?”

“Xenomedicine. Don't worry. Most can't pronounce it correctly.”

“A Specialization?”

She nodded and came over to him. “It means I know how to heal multiple species equally well.”

“Oh, which ones?”

“Obviously Asari, but also Human, Turian, Krogan, and Quarian. I'm not that great with Salarians and Drell, but I plan on working on that.”

“You don't seem to be too fond of Batarian anatomy it seems. More interested in causing damage to it instead of healing.”

Her giggle made him smile again. “Apparently.”

“I'm assuming Field Medicine has nothing to do with crops then.”

“Basically, it's a trauma specialization. Think Emergency Department at a hospital. Like the ones on the Citadel.”

Iocus couldn't draw his attention away from her lips, until she turned away. “Do you have any names you prefer to be called, Dr. Pyxis?”

“Just Rayne will do. Using my title generally gives me a giant target on my head if I do. I'd rather not have that if we can help it. Since I'm your only medical professional here.”

“No problem. Nothing shorter? Like Ray? What do your parents call you?”

She shook her head. “No. Just Rayne will do.”

“Alright. Well, I should probably go and make sure Nyreen doesn't kill our resident Krogan. See you at dinner?”

“See you then.”

“Bye Ray.” He hesitated for a second then left quickly, just in case she would get mad at the nickname. Once rounding the next corner, he whispered. “Like a ray of sunshine.”

 

 

*****

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: 
> 
> I thought it would be appropriate to mention a few things about these series of tales. All of which, I believe should be important enough to mention at the very beginning of these tales. 
> 
> First thing: these pages are transcript from a original role playing game conducted via the America Online's ® Instant Messaging chat room (aka. AIM). This platform is no longer available and it is the author's personal opinion it was a shame they got rid of it. The chatrooms had once a roll dice function which allowed for RPG tabletop gameplay though the computer. I generally like to describe our game as Dungeons and Dragons® without the actual Dungeons and Dragons.
> 
> Second thing: I would like to point out this was not a game which was completely written by myself. Like I mentioned before, this series was originally an RPG which I was able to enjoy gameplay with several other people. What I did was take the transcripts from the actual game and gave it some love. I reformatted, detailed, and added bits to make it more enjoyable of a read. 
> 
> So, I would like to take a moment to thank the others for their love and appreciation of this RPG. Thank you for bequeathing the original characters over to me to allow me to continue the creativity once we disbanded the group.
> 
> Most Importantly: I would like to state for the record that this does not a vanilla Mass Effect Universe. We took some liberties to change a few things because we didn't want to zap all the fun out of the game and tried to steer clear of most of the main characters in the game on purpose. At least one of us never played the game before nor actually played an RPG either. The play was opted to utilize standard Science Fiction/ Fantasy tools. 
> 
> I know there is going to be at least one person who mention something is off about the story with details. Know I am acknowledging this and I do not plan to change any of it. These stories were written with heavy assistance from the Official Mass Effect Wiki to make sure as much information I could was correct according to lore and documentation.


End file.
